


make sure that i'm near (when you really got something to say)

by whiplash



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Annie's a BAMF though, Basically All Jeff's Issues, Body Image, Control Issues, Episode: s04e05 Cooperative Escapism in Familial Relations, Established Relationship, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self Harm (Canon), Post-Finale, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 03:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5770003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiplash/pseuds/whiplash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, that really doesn’t look like an appendectomy scar..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	make sure that i'm near (when you really got something to say)

“You know, that really doesn’t look like an appendectomy scar,” Annie mutters, leaning closer to get a better look. Jeff automatically sucks in his bellybutton as she trails her fingers across his abdomen and towards the raised scar by his hip. Despite the undeniable surge of anxiety at her scrutiny, he still takes a moment to be grateful that they’re having this moment while he’s stretched out on his back. It’s, after all, the second best position for showcasing the sharp edges of his hipbones. It might be shallow of him, but if he’s going to be forced into a messy confession he might as well spill his guts while looking his best.

(All right, so there’s no ‘might’ about it. He’s shallow. He’s a shallow, shallow person. Happy?)

“Breathe,” Annie orders, tapping her fingertips against his ribs in admonishment. He obeys, but not without tugging down his t-shirt to hide how his waistline expands when his lungs inflate. Then he tangles his fingers into hers, bringing her hand close enough for him to press his lips against her knuckles.

“Nice distraction,” she says, rolling her eyes at him even as she brushes her thumb over his jawline.

“Thank you,” he replies, quite sincerely, before wrapping his arms around her waist and flipping them over so that she’s trapped underneath him. Careful to rest most of his weight on his forearms he then leans forward to kiss his way down her neck. She arches into him, her hair soft against his nose and her nails sharp where they dig into his shoulders.

“I’m not that easily distracted,” she mumbles into his neck. “You know that, right?”

Yeah, he knows.

xxx

And that’s why he later makes a strategic retreat to the gym. After an hour on the treadmill he’s already sweating like a pig. His mind has begun to quiet though so he counts it as a win. Now, as a rule, he doesn’t combine cardio with weight training but, considering the extenuating circumstances, he decides to allow himself a couple of sets from his upper body routine. However two sets soon turn into three and by the end of it he’s trembling like a virgin on prom night. On the bright side, he’s finally feeling back in control of himself.

Checking his phone he finds four messages from Annie and one from Abed.

 **Annie**  
So, you don’t have to tell me anything about your (definitely-not-an-appendectomy!!!) scar

 **Annie**  
But I want to point out that, historically, your secrets are awful and lead to terrible life decisions

 **Annie**  
Also, don’t forget to buy milk. Britta will come over tomorrow so it has to be organic!!!

 **Abed**  
TIL that the fake snow in the Wizard of Oz was asbestos :)

Squinting at the screen Jeff thumb-types his replies, including three ironically meant exclamation marks for Annie and a bewildered emoticon for Abed. Then he stops by the store to pick up a gallon of organic fat-free milk.

xxx

That night Annie rests her head on his chest, pinning him in place as efficiently as if she’d weighed him down with chains. The fingers of her left hand trace random shapes over his pectoral. She’s wearing one of his t-shirts over a pair of worn pajama bottoms and she smells faintly of apples and toothpaste. And even though she says nothing to prompt him, he knows that the very silence is his cue to speak.

“I was eleven,” he begins, hesitating before each word. Even after two years together, and dozens of night-time confessions between them, the whole sharing thing will never come naturally to him. “I convinced myself that I would get sympathy points if I told everyone in school that I had my appendix removed. This girl asked to see the scar and I had to…”

His voice trails off as he remembers. His hands had been sweaty and the scissors unwieldy.

“Well,” he eventually continues, “I needed a scar to show her. So I… made one. Hurt like hell, but, on the bright side, she shared her cookies with me for the rest of the year.”

They had been sickly sweet and crumbly, sticking to his teeth and coating the inside of his mouth. He’d taken to cleaning his teeth as soon as he came home after school, brushing against his gums until he could taste the iron. At the memory his chest begins to ache and he licks uneasily at the roof of his mouth. He wants to roll out of bed and leave. The gym’s open 24/7 and there’s no rule against going twice in a day. He could-

“You cut yourself?” Annie asks, her voice small as she interrupts his thoughts. Taking in the expression on her face Jeff realizes that he’s shocked her. Whatever she had expected – something embarrassing, he imagines – it hadn’t been this. And now she’s hurting for him. Or rather, for the manipulative little shit he’d once been.

“I was an idiot,” he assures her, keeping his voice even and stretching his lips into a smile. “Sure, I scored nearly 20 ‘get well’ cards but as it turns out, ink fades. After a few years you can barely read the signatures anymore. Scars, on the other hand, they’re far more permanent. Besides -”

He’s forced to swallow the rest as Annie’s hand covers his mouth. She twists, her palm still pressing down against his lips and her fingers digging into his cheeks, until she’s crouched over him. Their eyes meet and he wonders if she can read the gratitude in them. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t have it in him to find a way to spin the story into something that doesn’t make Annie look so damned heartbroken. This way, he doesn’t even have to try.

“You were a little boy,” Annie says, leaning forward so that he can feel her breath on his face. It’s minty and warm, clashing poorly with the steely note in her voice. “And you were in a bad enough state of mind to pick up a knife and cut yourself.”

“Scissors,” he tries to correct her but her palm muffles the words.

“Don’t spin this,” she orders, fingers digging deeper into his cheeks. He breathes shallowly through his nose, staring up at her beautiful, stern face. “Don’t try and tell me that it didn’t, or doesn’t, matter. I’m telling you right now, Jeff Winger, that I won’t stand for it. This is my serious face. Okay?”

She removes her hand and he takes a deep and greedy breath.

"Okay?" she repeats.

“Okay," he agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be part of a longer story about Jeff's body image issues but, let's face it, that story's not gonna happen. 
> 
> Also, the title's from a song by Toad the Wet Sprocket.


End file.
